The Li Clan's caravan departed Feiyun as morning sunlight brushed the rooftops of the ancestral halls. Crimson banners bearing the clan's sigil—a soaring crane clutching a pearl of flame—fluttered proudly in the cool morning breeze.
Horses snorted, hooves drumming the packed dirt in rhythm, while the heavy clatter of wagon wheels filled the air like rolling thunder.
This wasn't some humble convoy carrying silk and medicines. No, this was a declaration—the Li Clan extending its presence beyond the stone walls of Feiyun City, reminding every village, every merchant, every hidden sect along the way that they were powerful, wealthy, and very much protected.
Rows of armored guards flanked the wagons, their polished breastplates catching streaks of sunlight that danced like molten gold across the steel. Spears gleamed with faint spiritual runes, the etched symbols pulsing softly with restrained Qi, humming along the weapon shafts like quiet, deadly warnings. These weren't mere hired blades or desperate mercenaries. They were cultivators. Trained. Disciplined. Sworn to the Li Clan.
At the head of the procession rode Li Tianyu, the young master himself. His long black hair was bound neatly at the nape, his robe of deep indigo edged with silver thread that shimmered faintly when it caught the light. Beneath the folds of fabric, tucked close to his chest, lay the talisman from his mother—the embroidered charm threaded with protective sigils and maternal paranoia.
His grip on the reins was relaxed, but his eyes roamed constantly, sharp and restless, scanning the road ahead. The morning mist still clung to the distant treeline, curling through the branches like ghostly fingers.
Beneath his composed expression, Li Tianyu's heart beat faster.
Not out of fear, nor the childish nervousness the elders had warned him about. But with the same wild thrill that surged through him every time he clashed blades in the training yard.
The same restless hunger that gnawed at him whenever stories of distant lands, hidden sects, and forbidden martial techniques filled his ears. The same defiance that simmered in his chest every time his mother lectured him on duty, caution, and restraint.
This—this was what he lived for.
Behind him, the guards were already settling into familiar routines, their banter filling the morning air.
His uncle—his father's cousin, Li Liu, or just Uncle Liu—broad-shouldered and grizzled with age, rode to Li Tianyu's right. He got along with him well enough. His spear, nearly as tall as a man, was strapped across his back, the blade faintly gleaming with a chill blue light that hinted at the cold Qi woven into the steel.
"You've got that look again, young master." Liu teased, nudging his horse a little closer with a knowing smirk. "First time beyond the city walls, and you act like you've already conquered the world."
Li Tianyu allowed himself a quiet chuckle, his fingers brushing against the crimson talisman hidden beneath his robe.
"And here I thought I was hiding it well."
"To your mother? Not even close. To the rest of us? Maybe you fooled one or two."
Soft chuckles rippled through the guards riding nearby. A wiry, sharp-eyed guard with a crooked grin leaned forward from his saddle, his voice dripping with mock concern.
"Boss Liu, don't bully the young master like that. He just barely escaped Madam's 'ropes' this morning."
"Oi."
Li Tianyu shot him a sharp glance. His tone was light, but carried weight.
The guard only shrugged, feigning innocence.
"Come on, young master, no need to give me that death glare. Honestly, she guards you tighter than the clan's spirit stone vault."
"And we all know Madam loves you to death," another chimed in. "It's just… well…"
"It's suffocating sometimes…"
Liu barked out a laugh.
"I've seen stray dogs with more rights than our young master ever had growing up."
More laughter rippled through the group, their horses plodding along at an easy pace.
"Remember Madam nearly strangled Elder Zhen for suggesting young master should join that expedition to Mount Xiang?"
One of the younger guards wiped sweat from his brow, grinning as the others chuckled.
"Yeah, I remember. The old man barely escaped with his beard."
"That was crazy. It was a good idea too. Even the Patriarch agreed."
"Would've done him some good," Liu muttered, then pitched his voice into a mocking falsetto. "But no, instead she went with, 'My precious Tianyu might get a scratch!' Then she shoves him into her—well—generous bosom..."
"Boss, she's your cousin-in-law."
"Shut the hell up. Did I say anything inappropriate?"
"Just heavily implied it."
"Well, none of us are blind. Madam's got some divine assets."
"More like a walking safety mechanism. Kid could survive a fall from the roof if she catches him right."
More wheezing laughter followed. One of the guards nearly fell from his horse.
"I'm right here, assholes. Stop talking about her tits."
Li Tianyu reined in his horse slightly, casting a long, exasperated glare over his shoulder—but his lips twitched. He wasn't really angry. This was normal. Familiar. A crude but comforting kind of brotherhood built on banter, bruises, and decades of shared training drills.
"Look at that. Young master's learning restraint. You didn't try to skewer them this time."
"I will, eventually."
Uncle Liu chuckled beneath his mustache.
"Yu'er's blushing."
"Shut up."
Most noble sons would've thrown a fit. Hidden behind their titles. Not Tianyu.
While he never got to join their skirmishes—his overprotective mother made sure of that—he did what he could. Sent medicine, talismans, fresh gear. Even food. Anything to help from behind the lines.
He didn't strut like royalty. He trained with the guards, sparred with them, drank with them, bled beside them. Took punches, took bruises, and took beatings without a single complaint.
And that earned him something better than obedience.
Respect and loyalty.
Not with birth, but with blood and sweat.
Still, no one said they were wrong.
And even he had to admit—his mother was beautiful.
Too beautiful.
He didn't mind being spoiled by her—doted on, shielded, fussed over. Not one bit.
The funnier part was that even though everyone in the city knew she was married, men still circled her like flies.
They sent compliments, scented letters, spirit-infused jewelry—one even sent a jade carving shaped like her foot. That one mysteriously disappeared.
His father nearly blew a qi vessel at least three times. Tianyu didn't blame him. The man was a war hero, a battle-hardened cultivator... and completely outmatched when it came to his wife. She just blinked, confused every time, and then gave all the gifts away—to Tianyu or father. Not even a blink of temptation.
Once, he asked her why she put up with it.
She just looked irritated, shoved his head into her soft chest, and muttered something about men being annoying pests.
One of the guards elbowed him.
"So, what's with you being quiet today?"
"Yeah, young master, you're usually bragging. What happened to 'She brushes my hair like I'm still five' and 'She won't let me pour my own tea'?"
"Exactly," another added, grinning. "You act like she's gonna crawl into your bed and tuck you in herself."
"If she did," Tianyu said, slouching into the saddle, "I wouldn't complain. Better than freezing my ass out here delivering the goods."
The guards howled. One nearly dropped his reins laughing.
Though he longed to see the world beyond Feiyun and prove himself worthy of the Li Clan name, he had still preferred the warmth of being spoiled by his mother—her fussing, her gentle scolding, the way she pampered him like he was still a boy.
He even acted cool just to keep her doting on him.
"Aiya, he admits it!"
"You got the face for it too," one of them muttered. "That pretty-boy act melts her every time."
"She spoils me," Tianyu said simply, "because I let her."
"And when you marry?" someone asked. "What then? Think she'll share?"
He glanced sideways, smile curling.
"We'll see. If she really can't let go... she can join me in the bridal chamber too."
That killed the laughter.
Silence. Even the horses seemed to slow.
Uncle Liu let out a quiet curse and rubbed his temples.
"Boy… If she hears that, she'll tie you to the post herself."
"She won't," Tianyu said. His tone had shifted. Calmer. Lower. "She's not scared I'll go wild. She's scared I'll turn cold."
The road kept stretching forward. The trees no longer looked green—they looked distant, damp, fading into mist.
No one laughed now.
Uncle Liu slapped Li Tianyu's shoulder lightly.
"Let's just hope this journey brings you back in one piece."
Tianyu said nothing. He reached down, brushing his fingers over the charm at his waist. Small and smooth, its leather frayed from years of wear. Familiar. Steadying.
Li Tianyu narrowed his eyes toward the mist-veiled path ahead.
He had never truly crossed Feiyun's border alone before.
Whatever waited beyond that haze no longer belonged to his mother, his household, or the Li name.
It was his.
And whatever he could seize with his own hands, he'd claim without hesitation.
***
The days slipped by in rhythm. Horses plodded. Wheels groaned. Harnesses jingled.
They passed through three cities—each checkpoint, each market, fading into memory like vague smudges.
By the fourth morning, they reached Xucheng. Crumbling stone walls, crooked rooftops, smoke curling lazily into the sky.
A town that kept its head down. Guards silent, locals blind. One last pocket of safety before the wilds took over. They didn't stop.
Soon, paved roads thinned into winding trails. Roots cracked through the dirt.
Trees loomed, tall and gnarled, branches clawing upward. Sunlight broke through in fractured beams. The wind murmured, low and eerie, like it remembered things better forgotten.
Li Tianyu pulled his cloak tight, the wool brushing his jaw as he cast a sharp glance toward the dense treeline. His horse snorted softly beneath him, hooves crunching on the gravel-strewn path.
"This is going surprisingly smooth…"
Li Tianyu's lips curled into a half-smirk as Liu rode up beside him, his horse trotting with effortless grace.
"Four days on the road, not a single stray arrow, no shady wanderers trying to slit our throats, not even a starving dog nipping at the wagon wheels. Makes you wonder if we're just too scary… or if all those stories about bandits out here are complete lies."
Liu chuckled under his breath, fingers tapping absently against his reins. His eyes, sharp and calculating, never strayed from the path ahead.
"Disappointed already, Young Master?"
"Little bit," Li Tianyu admitted with a shrug, his gaze still drifting along the treeline. "I mean… after all the 'be careful of the wilds' speeches from the elders? I was at least expecting a roadside corpse or two by now."
A few of the guards trailing close behind chuckled at the remark, the easy banter lightening the mood. But Liu's quiet snort carried a familiar edge of warning.
"Don't get cocky, Yu'er. Real danger always hides where things look calm. You should know better."
Li Tianyu offered a sheepish grin, raising both hands briefly in surrender.
"Alright, alright, I get it. My bad, okay?"
"Good."
The conversation cut short as Captain Zhao's voice sliced through the air like a blade, steady and sharp.
"Better bored than bleeding, Young Master. Keep your eyes sharp. The real trouble starts after the Suncrest Hills."
Li Tianyu raised an eyebrow, interest piqued.
"Suncrest Hills?"
"Old mountain range just past these woods."
Zhao kept his eyes fixed ahead, his grip on the reins firm and unwavering.
"Old ridge. Once we cross this forest... Bandits, beasts, rogue cultivators or whatever they are—every problem you can imagine festers there eventually."
Uncle Liu also turned toward the thickening forest, his expression growing somber.
"He's right. These past few days, we've been lucky. But once we're there… let's hope our luck doesn't run dry—otherwise, it's time to pay the price."
As if on cue, the trees grew denser, the undergrowth thickening into tangled, claw-like thickets that scraped at the edges of the trail. The light dimmed beneath the canopy. Birdsong and rustling leaves gave way to a silence too deep to be natural.
Captain Zhao's voice called out again, low but commanding.
"Eyes up. We're nearing the second ridge. From there… it's bandit territory."
The caravan shifted. Guards straightened in their saddles, grips tightening on their spears and swords. Laughter faded. The air itself seemed to grow heavier, taut with quiet anticipation.
Li Tianyu felt his pulse quicken, a familiar thrill licking at his chest like wildfire. The weight of boredom lifted, replaced by the sharp edge of danger—unknown, unpredictable, exactly what he'd been waiting for.
He was just about to crack a joke when he sensed a shift in the wind. The sunlight dulled, the air turned clammy, like something was watching them… stalking from within the trees. His excitement turned sharp, alert. Every sense tensed as though a blade hovered at his throat.
The sun reached its peak above, yet the forest had already swallowed the caravan whole. The narrow path sank deep into the woodland. Massive ancient trees twisted overhead, their limbs stabbing upward like skeletal claws. Roots crawled like snakes, fallen leaves smothered the ground.
Pale shafts of light spilled through the canopy like ghostly lanterns, flickering on the caravan—like spectral hands brushing the caravan's hide.
Too quiet.
So quiet it chilled the bones.
Li Tianyu clutched his cloak tighter, eyes razor-sharp, muscles coiled like drawn bowstrings. The wagon wheels creaked against brittle twigs. Hoofbeats scattered dead leaves. Somewhere, faintly, a crow cawed—its cry stretched with sorrow, echoing through the death-stilled woods.
Uncle Liu rode closer, grinning, though his voice dropped to a graveyard whisper.
"What, no more words? Where's that fearless youth from earlier? Don't tell me you're waiting for a corpse to pop out and spook you?"
"Shut it, Uncle Liu." Li Tianyu's tone was flat, but his eyes didn't stray from the shadows.
"At least you're not dumb."
Captain Zhao's cold voice cut in. His warhorse stepped heavily, each beat like a hammer to bone.
"I was worried you'd start flapping your mouth for fun again."
"I'm not ready to die yet."
"Good." Zhao's lips twitched—almost a smile.
The air grew colder. The light turned pale like the face of the ill. Thornbushes thickened, the road ahead winding like a cluster of veins.
A sudden crack—a branch snapped. A flutter of wings—several crows burst skyward, their shadows flitting through the branches.
Li Tianyu narrowed his eyes and slowly drew his sword. Cold steel flashed.
"Prepare yourselves," Captain Zhao commanded, his voice steely.
"Yes, sir!" Dozens of guards responded, blades drawn, killing intent swelling thick like blood.
A foul wind swept through the trees. The stench of rot rushed in, thick with old blood and grave-soil stench—like corpses long dead were crawling out of the dirt.
Li Tianyu's gaze hardened.
"...They're here."
A heartbeat passed. A crow cried from the treetops. Leaves rustled—not in the wind, but something else.
Something moving.
The forest exhaled—and chaos followed.